diately to get the pets into comfortable quarters before Sunday.

Hatty put on her sun-bonnet, and they both were soon very busy in the
yard, planning for the chicken coop with as much interest as if they
were going to build some wonderful specimen of architecture which all
the world would admire.

Marcus found in the wood-house a large packing box, and after much
hammering he succeeded in knocking out one side, so the chickens could
have their feet on the ground in their new home.

"Chickens are like the Irishman who liked a mud floor that would never
wear out, and never need washing," said Marcus, with the air of one who
was instructing some ignorant person.

"Yes, grandma has all her coops made that way," said Hatty, who was well
pleased to show that she understood the subject.

Marcus now selected a board of the right length, and had just begun to
split it up into slabs for the front of the coop, when he heard Aunt
Barbara's bed-room window go up.

Marcus did not raise his eyes, but he could not stop his ears, and he
had to hear the shrill tone that called out, "Stop! stop! Marcus Lee!"

Marcus rested his hatchet on the board, and looked up.

"You are a wasteful boy!" began Aunt Barbara. "You ought to be ashamed
to cut up that good board!"

"Don't mind her," said Marcus, in an undertone, as he resumed his work.

"Wait a minute, Marcus," said Hatty; and then raising her voice she
called out, "Aunt Barbara, we want a coop for the chickens--some dear
little bantams I brought from grandma's!"

"Chickens!" said Aunt Barbara, much as if she had said bears! "What on
earth did you bring them here for? why, they'll ruin everything in the
garden, and crow so in the morning nobody can sleep."

"We are going to shut them up, Aunt Barbara, and that will keep them out
of mischief," said Hatty, trying to speak pleasantly.

"Take your own way! take your own way! Its never any use for me to say
anything!" said Aunt Barbara, and her window was put down with such a
force that made the glass rattle.

Marcus had expected to hear Hatty answer in her usual hasty way, and he
was quite surprised to see that she did not seem at all angry, and now
had no unkind remarks to make about Aunt Barbara. He did not know that
Hatty had been obliged to cast one look up to the clear sky, to remember
the Great Being who was looking down upon her, before she dare trust
herself to speak, nor did he know that she was now wondering why Aunt
B